


Figuring It Out

by GalaxyAqua



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Another Episode
Genre: 'What is love?', And Relationship Struggles, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, POV Second Person, Relationship(s), Unreliable Narrator, because Jataro has no idea what's going on half the time and likes to assume things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-18
Updated: 2015-10-18
Packaged: 2018-04-26 22:55:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5023765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalaxyAqua/pseuds/GalaxyAqua
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What on earth is ‘love’, anyway? The 'love' you got from Junko somehow seems different. Maybe it's all the same, though, just like how there are so many species of fish but they can all still be called 'fish' anyway – maybe the 'love' everyone's talking about is just the very same. Or, or, maybe, it doesn't even exist? Who even knows, at this point?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Figuring It Out

**Author's Note:**

> when I'm stressed, I write (stupid nonsensical things in one sitting), and thus, this is what happens!
> 
> (just as a sidenote, Jataro's voice is a massive challenge to write! I may or may not tilt off into some other direction near the end, so here's a head's up!)

Somehow, in some way, shape or form, she’s more precious to him than anything could ever be precious to anyone in their entire life.

Wow… what a mouthful.

A mouthful of something that sounds utterly fake, even to you. But you wouldn't get it... you've never been precious to anybody, and the only person who was ever precious to you was big sis Junko.

Hey, it’s not like it means all that much to you, anyway. You don’t really care! It’s the truth, and you’re telling the truth. You’ve always told the truth. Just like you’ve always let people take credit for what you’ve done. Just like you’ve always been a fan of air conditioners and spiders, even though other people don’t want to talk about things like that. You might have to wonder why, but it’s not like you talk about those things a lot either.

Anyway, the point is that you’ve always told the truth. And that’s it! That’s the thing!

Nagisa likes Monaka. Monaka likes Nagisa.

That’s the way it has always been (though the latter you can’t be too sure). Is it bad to assume and call it the truth? You don’t really know that, either.

You kinda just assumed when you set up those paintings and murals too, and it's not like Monaka made any real comment on it, so... well, doing whatever you want is fine, isn't it? Even if you questioned yourself when you were cutting out the frame of Nagisa and Monaka holding hands; even if casting the two as leads in Snow White sent an air of confusion buzzing in your head the whole time.

It's not like bringing it up would do you any harm – any more than you already get, you suppose, and it would be nice to have Monaka stare at you solely like you are an ugly, disgusting piece of filth – but you don't want to intentionally stir Nagisa, because he doesn't like to be fluffed up by the others anyway. A face that red doesn't need any more coaxing, after all.

But the bottom line is, whatever it is that Nagisa feels for Monaka – you simply don’t understand.

It’s not that you don’t like Monaka, of course, well, she’s the princess and she at least takes time out of every day to tell you she hates you… it’s more just to do with the fact that Kotoko slaps the back of your masked head and tells you that whatever Nagisa feels for Monaka; it’s ‘love’.

And what on earth is ‘love’, anyway?

The 'love' you got from Junko somehow seems different. Maybe it's all the same, though, just like how there are so many species of fish but they can all still be called 'fish' anyway – maybe the 'love' everyone's talking about is just the very same. Or, or, maybe, it doesn't even exist?

What if 'love' is just a version of hate that's been seen differently?

Oh, but you don't like that thought. Because big sis Junko said she loved you, and she was different from all the others. Love must be different. It has to be!

So then, does Nagisa feel the same for Monaka as Junko felt for you? Then, why doesn't he like hugging her? He doesn't seem the type to read her bedtime stories, either...

Then what on earth is _that_ kind of 'love'?

“Kotoko,” you call softly, latching onto on of the girl's long, pink pigtails. She swerves around and blinks owlishly, swatting your sleeve-covered hand away, and then sighing in exasperation.

“What is it now, Jataro?”

“You know how you were talking about 'love' before, right...”

She giggles lightly, pressing two pale hands to her cheeks and nodding, seeming to forget she held any malice towards you – and that simply would not do. You would have to gross her out more later. “Right!” She chirps cheerfully, “So, do you see it too? Isn't it the cutest thing ever?! I love Monaka too, so I can totally see what Nagisa sees in her! Ah, young love...! It's just the best, don't you think?”

“S-see, about that...”

“You don't think so?” Kotoko stares at you open-mouthed, as if she herself were somehow offended.

“No, no, that's not what I meant!” You pull a chisel from your apron and fiddle with it; an idle distraction while you think about what to say. “It's... I don't really get it, actually.”

“Ah!” Kotoko inhales sharply, before she bows her head dramatically. “So it's something like that, huh... if you were Monaka, it might have been totally super adorable, but that's just sad... to not know what love is – what a terrible life you must have lived!”

You wisely choose not to make a comment on that, and simply draw circles in the air with your chisel, waiting for her to keep going.

“Well, I gotta tell you then,” Kotoko continues, straightening and nodding proudly at herself. “Love is when you wanna be with someone for a long time and make them happy and treat them nicely and take suuuuuper good care of them!”

“Huh?”

“What?” The pinkette puffs out her cheeks, flailing her arms around expressively. “It's not that hard! It's like... you gotta do anything to make that person keep smiling! And if they're hurting, you're hurting! And sometimes you have to make sacrifices if you want them to be happy... even if it hurts... and even if it doesn't feel right...”

She trails off, biting her lip.

After a few beats of silence, you figure she isn't going to say any more and you take the opportunity to ask, “So is that how Nagisa feels about Monaka?”

“Wha-?” Kotoko blinks, as if she had forgotten what you were originally talking about. Moments later, a smile re-emerges on her face. You wonder what she was thinking of, for a second, as she grins, “Yeah. That's it! Totally, 1000% love!”

You exit the room to try and wrap your mind around it.

Smiling? Hurting? Happy? Sacrifices? It all sounded pretty fake... but then again... maybe... what if it really is...

… oh! Oh. Oh, you see now. Maybe this is all just an elaborate prank, and Kotoko was just messing with you. That makes sense! That must be it!

Of course this weird kind of love doesn't exist!

It seems painful. It seems stupid. It seems a lot of things – if your only example is Nagisa’s doting on Monaka, and his helpless embarrassment when she teases him – but just by watching, you can’t really figure it out at all!

So, what is it? Nothing, obviously! You're just as stupid as always... falling for a trick like that... honestly...

… but... it could exist, couldn't it?

Not for someone like you, maybe, but could that weird kind of 'love' exist for other people? Could you ask Nagisa, then? Or even –

“Hey, Masaru, what's 'love'?” the words spill out of your mouth at dinnertime before you can stop them, and the redhead across the table spits out his drink. Kotoko looks up from her conversation with Monaka and rolls her eyes at the mess, whilst Monaka smiles innocently and waves the actress back to their small talk. Nagisa stands a little off to the side and only raises his eyebrows – too busy scolding Servant to pay acute attention to anyone's mealtime conversation.

Masaru recovers quickly, to his credit, and hisses from behind the untouched fruit bowl, blue eyes honing in on you with an aggravated “W-what the heck are you asking me for?!”

“Well, I dunno.” You answer honestly, poking at your dinner with a fork. “It's not like you hafta answer even if I ask... and also, did you know that a squirrel has an attention span of one second? That sounds really short, but if you give them a nut or, or like, an acorn or something... they can stretch it out to four whole minutes!”

“Whoa, hey,” Masaru narrows his eyes and slams a fist on the table to grab your immediate attention. “Don't go 'round asking stupid questions if you don't want an answer! And who cares about some stupid squirrel?!”

You brighten, disregarding his jibe at your squirrel fact. “So you can tell me what 'love' is? You know what it is, right?”

To your surprise, he flushes red, angrily shoves something into his mouth and doesn't answer.

“Masaru...?” Tilting your head to the side, you ask, “Are you mad at me? I'm just curious, y'know... I can always ask someone else...”

“Ugh, nah, you're just dumb, is all.” He's still frowning when he finally speaks up again, and sends a quick glance around the room to make sure nobody else is listening, before he leans across the table, and says, “Heh, since I'm the leader, I guess I have to tell you. Here's the secret. 'Love' is just some stupid thing that Demons made up to make kids suffer!”

“But what _is_ it?” You insist, unsatisfied with him ending it there, and knowing an excuse when you see one. “I know about the pretend love, because big sis told me about it... it's, it's the other one that I don't get.”

“You mean like how you love your friends?” Masaru looks thoughtful (or as thoughtful as he can, considering that it's Masaru speaking), and then just shrugs. “That's just how it sounds! Nothing more to it, silly!”

“No,” you press further, eyes comically wide. Your mother told you it was rude to point, but you point at Kotoko just because you can. Masaru follows your arm, but doesn't get it.

“Why're you pointing at her?”

“I'm asking about the kind of love that Kotoko was telling me about before!”

“What – how the hell am I supposed to know what you were talking about with Kotoko, anyway!?”

Hearing her name, Kotoko pipes up from the end of the table, “Come on, Jataro! Are you still going on about that?”

“What is this about?” Monaka inquires sweetly, and Kotoko gushes over her, petting her head and telling her that it's just 'something stupid' and 'boys being boys' and 'oh my gosh, Monaka, you're so cute, I love you'.

It suddenly occurs to you that perhaps Kotoko's love for Monaka is the same as Nagisa's, and you wonder if that should change the way you think about anything. Should you have cut Kotoko out holding hands with Monaka as well? You had only put her cutout next to Masaru to create balance, after all... not to mention, you had put them both in Cinderella, because of aesthetic or something... but if she really did love Monaka like she always said, then you feel kinda bad. No, wait! You shouldn't! You don't do anything to please anyone, so it doesn't matter. Art is art and your murals are fine just the way they are! But Kotoko's love is also important...

You scuttle over to Masaru's side of the table, and gesture for him to offer his ear to your musings.

“Hey, if... if, y'know, Kotoko and Nagisa... both love Monaka, then what about you?”

Masaru recoils, with a loud, “What _about_ me?!”

That finally catches Nagisa's attention, and the boy scowls. “Are you done screeching over there? Some people are trying to eat.” With that, he sends an obvious glance towards Monaka, and she beams back at him with a small wave. He blushes.

You mouth 'sorry' to both of them, and turn back to look at Masaru, who's slapping himself in the face. “Um...”

“Heroes don't need stupid things like 'love',” the redhead tells you decidedly, shaking a fist in Nagisa's general direction. “When I say I wanna have someone all to myself, that isn't love. That's power. When I say I wanna make someone happy, that isn't love. That's stupidity. Heh, that's why I'm a better leader than Nagisa! Romance is overrated. Give me world domination any day! Hahaha! Yeah, king of the world, that's right! That's where I'm at!”

You blink, because Masaru's just turned the tables once more, and you're more confused than you ever were on the subject.

_If that isn't love either..._

_Then what is?_

“Okay,” you lie, and send him a weak grin. “I get it now.”

* * *

 

When your mind starts to wander, you begin to think about it all over again. Unfortunately for you, in less than a year your prime example has faded into dust and ashes, and there's no more 'Nagisa and Monaka' for you to consider – you don't even know where or what Monaka is, and there's barely a Nagisa left for you to even converse with.

If that strange 'love' did that to him, then you don't want to know what 'love' is anymore.

Maybe it's even as bad as the Demons who are obsessed with it. You just want Junko's kind of love, and nothing else. Too bad, you're never going to get something like that again, will you?

Whatever, you don't deserve it... you couldn't even listen to your mother and keep your mask on, 'cause now it's gone and you don't have any means of getting it back. Your horrible, disgusting face is free for everyone to see. If you wake up, and your friends' have exploded, then you're sure you must be the cause.

Some 'love'. What did Monaka do to Nagisa? To Kotoko? Nowadays, even Masaru isn't as lively as he used to be – though he still likes to play the hero and charge in to defend you all from the Monokuma; no matter how many times he gets hurt.

That hurts you, somewhere deep inside, but not in a medical sense.

_Poor Masaru._ You think. _Poor Kotoko. Poor Nagisa._ It must be pity.

“Hey, Nagisa?” You pipe up, only because he's right there, and you're not in the mood for being chased around by Masaru, or squealed over by Kotoko (how times change, you lament idly, it was easier when they all acted like they really did hate you).

“What is it?” Nagisa brings his scarf around, tucking it closer around his neck. He doesn't look cold, but you don't question it; you don't care enough to fill time with stupid questions, not when there's more interesting things around such as guessing how many stairs it will take to reach the top of Towa Tower, or pondering if pressed flowers would attract bees just like normal flowers do.

“Do you... know what 'love' is?”

Nagisa sighs, and looks you directly in the eye. You cower a little, but don't look away. It's only Nagisa. He's not going to hurt you.

“I...” He smooths out a crease in his jacket, whilst he speaks, “... still have a lot to learn, it seems.”

“Oh, I see.” You've never really been one for tact, since no-one ever taught it to you. Not that you need it! Lies are always more hurtful than the truth. Some people just don't like to admit it! So throwing tact to the wind, you follow up with a curious, “Did you love Monaka?”

Nagisa frowns a little, corners of his lips turning down. His eyes finally leave you, and you sort of wonder if you've pushed the wrong buttons, but he answers much to your relief, “I don't know, to be honest. Maybe it was love. Maybe it was just infatuation. Maybe it was a hormonal reaction, even. All I know now is that what she had wanted was not the same as what I had wanted.”

“Really?” You perk up a little, for reasons unbeknownst to you. “That's pretty hard to believe... I mean, I always thought you and her had, well, I dunno, the same thoughts on things. Not telepathy or anything, even though that would be cool... but you know. And Kotoko said she kissed you.”

Nagisa's frown deepens, but he doesn't deny it. “She did.”

“You didn't want that, then?” You tip your head to the side, confused. “Kisses are what Demons use to show their love for each other, right? So Monaka must have at least loved you... right?”

“I ...don't know.” He forces a smile, and pokes you in the cheek. “Let's just leave it at that for now, alright? I don't want to talk about it.”

“Okay.” You whisper, as if you've partaken in an action you weren't meant to. You do that, sometimes, because conversations are always so ambiguous. It's too much trouble trying to figure out what other people are feeling, so you'd rather just let things fall as they please. Just like if you skim a rock in a pond; you can't really predict exactly where it will land. Your brain starts whirring again, at one glance to the side, and another question pops out from the tip of your tongue, “Say, do you know how to tell the difference between a flying ant and a winged termite? 'Cause I think they look pretty similar... but they're different insects, right?”

* * *

 

Another quest to Kotoko a month later tells you that “you don't have to know what love is to feel it! When you feel it, you will know. Maybe it'll be weird, and maybe you won't like it at first, but you'll definitely, absolutely know it when you feel it!”

And she's right.

You feel sick when you fall in _strange_ love for the first time. You literally fall to your knees and drool all over the ground, until Kotoko is beyond trying to help you and tries to kick you instead. It's not like you even knew what you were feeling, but it felt disgusting and you hated it. You despise the feeling of love. Your face burns like you've dived into the sun, and your stomach is churning like a washing machine on the highest, fastest setting. You feel worse than you've felt in a long while.

“Are you okay?” Kotoko is shrieking for the sixth or seventh time, pigtails flying as she shakes her head from side to side, trying to catch a glimpse of either Nagisa or Masaru so they can replace her on, well, 'Jataro duty'. “What's wrong with you?!”

You're doomed, you think. There is no escape. You've fallen into some dark abyss that you'll never get out of, and even if you made a thousand sculptures of dead people you'd never get your mind off it. Words flash across your head a mile a minute, and you can't even string together a coherent sentence when he comes.

“Jataro, calm down, look at me. How bad is it? Where does it hurt?”

_Nagisa._

“E-everywhere.” You breathe; short, long, short, long. You're panicking. You're sick. You're disgusting, you're the worst, such a horrible person. You don't want this. You don't want to feel like this. It hurts. “I'm scared, Nagisa.”

His hand sears a mark into your shoulder, and a tear falls from behind your lashes. “Don't take your eyes off me.” He says distantly. “You're okay. You're fine. Calm down. It's okay. What are you afraid of?”

_You._

“I, I don't know... I just wanna go home!”

You can't stand this. You feel sick to the bone, and utterly ashamed of yourself. Why? You'll never be loved by anyone, so why did you have to end up with this stupid love you never wanted? Maybe it's infatuation. Maybe it's a hormonal reaction. Calm down! You calm down. Those are Nagisa's words. You don't have to worry. That must be it! You must be feeling it later because you're smaller than all the others!

That makes sense! It's fine, then. It will pass. You'll wait for it to pass. Like a train, you'll let it run full speed, and then collapse a tunnel on top of it – leaving it useless, forever. You'll gouge out its windows, and rip off its wheels. Gone, forever.

Ha... stupid love. Just like a lot of stupid, useless things... it will die.

* * *

 

Until now, you have never believed in karma, because for someone as worthless as yourself, karma shouldn't even bother. You get the worst of it just by existing. So what could karma do to you, anyway?

Apparently, a lot, as you've now discovered.

It took one comment, _one_ small, irritated comment that you made to Kotoko about Masaru (because he had ticked you off! You were perfectly justified, and he had locked you in the bathroom again, even though he promised he wouldn't do that anymore! Besides, he can't keep pretending he's perfect, because he isn't, and he should just accept it like you did years ago and move on with his life, it's honestly not that hard, and by gosh, when did you get so vindictive?), and now they're not talking to one another and karma hates you and you're stuck being the messenger because Nagisa doesn't want to take part in such 'moronic disagreements'.

Also, Nagisa _obviously_ has a crush on Masaru.

Which is fine, of course. It's not like you're all that concerned about something like that; you don't often grow concerned about anything, except maybe the wild rabbit that you once found with big sis Junko, which you had secretly taken in, and had later let it go in the forest where Junko said it would live happily. You don't care! That's the truth!

It's fine if Nagisa wants to stare after the redhead, flutter when he's pulled into an impromptu hug, color pink when he's scolding the boy for doing something stupid, smile fondly after him when he thinks no-one else is looking. That's fine, too.

Masaru once cracked his head open when he fell off the swing anyway, so he's not exactly the brightest bulb in the box. Light in the box? Tool in the box? Tool in the shed? It doesn't really matter... it's not like anyone cares what you have to say, anyway.

And it's not like you don't like Masaru, either. You've been friends for longer than anyone can remember... you wonder if all this is just an amalgamation of teenage hormones and Demon auras seeping into your skulls. That's the real disgusting thing. You don't want to become a Demon.

Just leave it be for now. It's the best solution, you think.

You attach yourself to Kotoko, and let her gossip incessantly into your ear. This is fine. She'll definitely make a joke and help you feel better. And then you'll be okay again.

“Uh, Jataro. Kotoko. Hi.” Masaru appears before you both, seeming to have thought over his actions and pressing his tongue to the inside of his cheek in an attempt to stop himself from saying something stupid, probably. “So, I guess I'm sorry. For whatever. Everything. Yeah, I'm sorry. Heh, even someone like me can make mistakes, it seems...”

Kotoko crosses her arms, and smiles only slightly. “Are you done?”

He looks alarmed, and your eyes subconsciously flick over to Nagisa, who is reading on a wooden chair, but clearly eavesdropping on the conversation.

“What do you mean by that?”

“That was the most half-assed apology I've ever heard.” She quips, and her mouth stretches into a grin. You may have wondered in the past, but not anymore. Kotoko's coping mechanism relies on smiles and more smiles, and there's no way she's happy, but she's smiling all the same. You'd admire that, but you're almost the same. You're both just 'cheerful kids', in the end, huh...

“Okay? Then, what do you want from me? You haven't even told me why you're mad at me! Like, Jataro, okay, I'm sorry about the bathroom thing, but that wasn't even intentional!” Masaru grinds his teeth and butts his fists together; not preparing to hurt either of you, but more so to hurt himself. Coping mechanisms are peculiar things.

“It doesn't matter anymore.” Kotoko answers, with a final flick of her bubblegum hair. “I forgive you.”

“Wait, seriously?!”

She sticks out her tongue. “Not.”

“Kotoko,” warns Nagisa, suddenly contributing without invitation. “You're not being very fair to him.”

She mimics Nagisa, and only just misses the dejected look that crosses Masaru's face. You don't. You take pity on him. Because you're weak! Because you're Jataro! Just because, just because! 

“Hey, isn't it fine to just forgive him?” You mumble quietly, and Kotoko blinks, watching you as if asking 'is that okay'? You don't know why you're saying it, but you don't want the rift between Kotoko and Masaru to grow further and further apart, just because of a simple misunderstanding. You tell yourself it's not because Nagisa started paying attention to it. You tell yourself Nagisa's opinion doesn't matter. Stop lying. You don't lie. You like the truth, remember?

“For now,” announces Kotoko with a wave of her hand. “I forgive you! But one more misstep, and it's a pie to the face!”

Masaru lights up like it's Christmas all over again.

You don't miss the smile Nagisa sends his way.

* * *

 

The air is particularly tense on a hot summer morning, as you sweat in your long sleeves, and refuse to take any article of clothing off; even with the others running around practically stripped to their underwear, and just not caring, because even though you're all bigger kids now – you're still kids and kids don't care about things like that.

Nagisa is looking out the window and pointedly ignoring everyone when you approach him.

“Are you okay?” You ask, a little patter of something swelling in your chest. Don't be pathetic, you scold yourself, and will it back down into nothingness.

“Fine.” is his only reply. A little light has vanished from his eyes.

“Um... did.... did something happen?”

“Nothing you should worry about.” He clears his throat. “Really, don't worry about it. I'm just a little tired, is all.”

You're about to ramble off on a list of good things to do to rejuvenate a tired person, like cool mint for example, when Kotoko grabs you roughly by the collar and drags you away from Nagisa, and into the cool dark of the closet.

“What are you doing?” She asks accusingly, “You can't just tell him to get over it.”

Once more, you have no idea what she's talking about. “... get over what?”

“His confession, silly!” At your blank stare, she rolls her eyes and clutches your hands together. “He confessed to Masaru last night, I thought you would have heard?”

You blink. “At night, I was sleeping.” You tell her. “The sounds of the cicadas are real soothing. If you listen to them for long enough, it's almost like you can't tell what's real and what's a dream anymore...”

“Well, wake up, airhead!” Kotoko shakes you by the shoulders almost roughly, but you're used to it. “Just... don't talk about it, okay? Poor thing hasn't had the best of luck in love. But then again, Masaru's empty head probably imploded at the very thought! Oooh, they're both such idiots!”

“So Masaru...”

“He said he couldn't return the feelings, at least not now.” Kotoko nods to herself. “I don't think he even understood half of what Nagisa was saying! My god!”

Half because you're still genuinely perplexed, and half because you want to rile Kotoko, you say, “Ah, that's too complicated...”

“You, too?” Kotoko bursts out of the closer with renewed fervor. “It's official! I am surrounded by idiots!”

And Nagisa laughs at that, but the sound hurts your heart.

* * *

 

You do most things on a whim. You're used to doing whatever you want. You're a 'latchkey kid'. So you just went for it, even though you had no idea what you were doing or saying or feeling. Even though you still felt pleasantly sick, and couldn't stop shaking all the way to your toes.

The weird love doesn't really exist. Not the kind of love that's complicated and terrible and difficult to understand. It's a misconception! A trick of light. That must be it.

Love is what you've thought of it all along – a fish among fish, different but still the same. So you just go for it. 

“I love you,” falls easily from your chapped lips, and your face is still as nonchalant as before you said it. You don't blush, you don't fall, you don't cry. You just say it. It's easy! It's just words. There's nothing really to it.

But the effect is enormous.

Nagisa stumbles on his feet, catching himself on the marble counter in front of him, and whirling around to face you with unreadable blue eyes. “You –“

“I do.” You insist, sensing a protest bubbling from his throat. “It's inconvenient, but I thought I'd just let you know. So you can feel free to hate me now! That's fine, isn't it? I've never seen you brimming with hatred before. Maybe it'll be refreshing, y'know? Change of pace? Though some people are afraid of change... I think change is a good thing.”

“I, what,” He begins, before cutting himself off, “What are – do you – do you even know what you're saying?”

“I'm saying that I love you,” you wonder if it's somehow getting harder to say it each time. Is this supposed to happen? Or is your throat closing up from hay fever? You sigh. “And because someone so disgusting likes someone like you, I thought that you must definitely hate me, right? You're disgusted, right?”

Nagisa is silent. His hair falls perfectly in place, and your fingers itch for a paintbrush; either to put the image to canvas or to paint clouds on that pristine face. Something inside you rattles uncomfortably (does silence mean agreement, you wonder), but you let it go.

“Well,” you say, flinging your sleeves around lazily. “That's all I gotta say. Unless you want me to wear a disguise and say it again? I have loads of disguises, if you want. But I'm not going to wear a dress, so don't suggest something like that.”

“No,” he says slowly. “I just want to clarify something.”

“Hm?”

“You... you're serious... about this?”

“Uh huh.”

“You're serious.”

“Yep.”

“You're... positive.”

Kotoko groans from the other room and bangs on the wall. “Just hurry it up, already! It's about time!”

“Kotoko!” You hear Masaru yell, and a muffled yelp is heard. “You totally blew our cover!”

“Oh, whatever!” She exclaims, “They were gonna find us anyway! There's no privacy in this house!”

A curtain falls.

“Since when?” Nagisa asks, as if you had never been interrupted. Your gaze travels back to meet his, and you then have the decency to smile shyly.

“I dunno.” You answer honestly. “It just happened. You're surprised?”

“I...” His lips quirk a little, nervous. “I thought you liked Kotoko this whole time, so I just never...”

Ohh. That made sense, come to think of it. You didn't really understand it, but somewhere along the line, Kotoko must have stopped hating you and you became friends. That's an odd thought. Odd, but true. You don't hate the thought as much as you should have.

“So, now what?” You ask, sweeping a bit of hair out of your eyes. “You still haven't rejected me, and I can't go back to growing mushrooms in the corner until you say something. … well, it's not like I physically can't, because I can, but figuratively, it just means I'm going to stay here, whether you like it or not.”

He turns pink, and looks down at his feet. “Well...”

“Just kiss already!” Kotoko shrieks, appearing at the doorway, “I don't have time for this! In the time it took you two to confess to each other, Masaru and I could adopt five chickens and let them run free! Free as the wind! And then an army of five hundred chickens would return and you'd still be standing here!”

“Why chickens?!” yells Masaru, and then an “ow” rings out from the room.

“Shut up,” Nagisa shouts, finally acknowledging their presence. “Patience is a virtue. Besides, it's none of your business.”

You can sense the mood beginning to shift, so you take a step back, content with letting the others have at it until they're satisfied – because your little group loved to do just that. But before you can get too far away, Nagisa catches your wrist, and plants the daintiest kiss onto your cheek.

“Wh-what?” You curse yourself for squeaking and stuttering at the same time, because you do exactly that, and your embarrassment is further enhanced by Kotoko's delighted screaming and Masaru's loud, “Ooooohhhh!”

Your voice lowers, but you already know the entire room can hear you. You really didn't want to be the center of attention! But oh well... “What was that for?” You ask, touching your cheek and wishing you had actually brought a disguise. What a coward!

“I don't know,” Nagisa replies, mirroring your touch but to his own lips. “It just happened. You surprised?”

You're more surprised that Nagisa just attempted to make a joke. You're not absent-minded enough to not realize that those were the exact words you said before, after all. He releases your wrist, but his hand lingers. Your heart thumps wildly in your chest, and you take it. It's warm.

“Encore!” Shouts Kotoko, and you have half a mind to kick her out if you didn't love her in that friend-love way a billion times already.

"Encore!" Echoes a confused Masaru, and you realize that they just want to see you return the favor. It's to provoke you.

You go for it anyway.

(And you kind of miss, because you hit Nagisa right in the mouth, and you both burn up like wildfire.)

(But that's okay.)

(… that was your first kiss, right?)

(Yeah, that's okay.)

(Probably.)

“Nagisa,” you say after recovering; you remarkably quicker than he. “What is 'love'?”

He smiles, and it leaves you nothing but happy. You wonder if you could get used to this. 

“Guess we'll have to learn now, won't we?”


End file.
